Sooner or Later
by Darkest Desire
Summary: What if Hogwarts was no more than your typical high school and Harry didn't get his letter to attend it until his Junior year? An HP, AU, slashy high school fic. Come on, you know you love it!
1. Poor Luck and Prank Letters

Summary: What if Hogwarts was no more than your typical high school and Harry didn't get his letter to attend it until his Junior year? An HP, AU, slashy high school fic. Come on, you know you love it!

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CHAPTER ONE: POOR LUCK AND PRANK LETTERS 

Harry Potter, high school outcast and all around nobody, fell with a loud thud as Clay Roddick, jock, prep, and most popular boy in the whole damn school, pushed past him as if he were completely invisible. Harry sometimes wondered if he really was. The only time anyone seemed to notice him was when they were making fun of him, yelling at him, or roaring with laughter because he'd just made a complete fool of himself.

His books were now scattered across the bustling hallway being trampled on by the students brushing past him on their way to class, taking notice of him only long enough to send him a glare for having the audacity to have spilt his books across the floor. Needless to say, nobody bothered to stop and help him gather his things. Not that he actually expected anyone to.

By the time he had finally managed to get everything packed back into his bag and picked himself up from his position scrounging around on the floor, the bell had already rung. He was late again. Nothing new, but still mildly irritating. Today, like all days, was off to a _great _start for Harry Potter. And I do hope that you took note of the blatant use of sarcasm in that remark.

Harry Potter's life was made up of a series of bad, worse, and utterly humiliating why-doesn't-someone-just-shoot-me-now days. This day happened to be a schedule one: a UHW day. Not only had he been shoved to the floor with his things falling everywhere about him, a delightful occurrence which had now caused him to be tardy _again_, but his whole morning had just been shit. More shit than usual that is.

His hair, which never behaved as he would like it, seemed to be particularly unruly today, sticking up every-which-way as if he'd had a run in with the barber from hell. Not only that, but the only clean clothes he'd been able to find were the ones that his Aunt Petunia had dyed grey for use as a uniform during his brief stint at St. Brutus's. Despite the fact that he had grown some since Jr. High, the hand me down sweats 'gifted' to him by his whale-like cousin, who could put a Sumo wrestler to shame, still hung off of him like a gigantic sheet, with a hole cut for his head, had been draped over him. Overall, the get-up made it look like he was wearing elephant skin. If the whole experience hadn't been so utterly mortifying, Harry might have laughed at the thought of the elephant skin; Dudley _could _probably qualify for an elephant, though Harry preferred to think of him as a 'pig in a wig' instead.

Deciding that he had better get a move on, Harry let out a long suffering sigh before starting down the hall once more. He made it about halfway to his first period--pre-calculus with his _favorite _teacher Ms. Birch (a.k.a. Ms. Bitch as Harry preferred to refer to her as in the privacy of his own head)--when a loud ripping sound and the subsequent clattering of books, binders, and other school supplies hitting the floor alerted him to the fact that his book bag had just broken and spilt his things across the floor for the second time in the past five or so minutes. Yes, this day was off to a _great _start.

Not only was his bag completely ruined, but his pen had cracked, causing ink to seep onto the homework he had spent the better part of last night completing. Which meant another zero on all of his assignments for today. And to make matters worse, he would probably end up with another detention, since he would most certainly be truant by the time he managed to clean this mess up. It was at times like this that Harry Potter truly hated his life. Somehow such times seemed to occur quite often to him.

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Mow the lawn. Check. Do the laundry. Check. Clean the kitchen. Check. Put the roast in the oven. Bugger! He knew he'd forgotten to do something. Perhaps he could run down to the kitchen and start the roast before anyone noticed that he hadn't done so to begin with. Nobody was home yet...they'd probably never know.

Just as Harry began his decent down the stairs, the sound of a car pulling up into the driveway alerted him to his relatives' untimely arrival. Making a mad dash down the stairs and into the kitchen, where he almost slipped and landed on his bum, Harry hastily attempted to get the pot roast ready to be shoved into the oven in the thirty seconds that it would take for his uncle to barge into the house and check up on the state of things. That mainly consisted of making sure Harry hadn't been up to any 'mischief' and checking to see that he'd done all of his so called 'chores.'

"Boy!" the voice of Vernon Dursley, uncle to Harry and bane of his existence, bellowed out as soon as he'd managed to squeeze his way through the front door. "You'd better not have burnt the kitchen down or any other such nonsense or I'll have your hide!" he added threateningly, his heavy footfalls coming closer and closer to the swinging door leading into the kitchen where Harry was desperately trying to fix the roast before his uncle made his unfortunate appearance.

Too bad the damn roast didn't seem to want to fit in the bloody oven. "Bollocks," was all that Harry could think to say as the door swung open and the enormous round silhouette of his uncle came into view.

The walrus like man took one look at the scene before him--Harry halted in mid attempt to physically shove the pot roast into the oven--before his eyes bulged and a thick, purple vein popped up on his forehead. Blast it all! He was in for it now. But then again, that was nothing new.

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Being sent to bed without supper was really becoming an all too common occurrence for Harry's taste. At this rate he would remain a scrawny 5'5" and 115 lbs for the rest of his bloody life. Not that anyone would take any notice of him no matter how tall or muscular he was. Oh well, just one more thing to add to his list of unattainable goals. Bloody list almost took up a whole notebook now...he couldn't remember why he had started it or continued to add to it anymore. Another way of torturing himself more than he already was.

At least his punishment hadn't been that bad this time. They'd even let him check the mail, a task which they hardly ever trusted him with. And today of all days, he had actually received something...addressed to him...Mr. H. Potter, in a swirly, emerald green script. He couldn't remember ever having gotten mail before. Not even one of those stupid news letters detailing upcoming school events.

The letter didn't have a return address, and Harry couldn't possibly think of anyone who might even think of sending him something. It was probably a mistake, or some stupid prank. He wasn't sure that he really wanted to open it, just receiving it was satisfaction enough and he would probably only be disappointed with its contents. But what if it was for real? What if someone actually _had _meant to send him something?

Aware of the fact that his curiosity would be bound to get the better of him eventually, Harry decided that he might as well go ahead and open the letter now. Breaking the elaborate wax seal and carefully extracting the two pieces of parchment and what seemed to be an empty envolope which were bound within the tan envelope, Harry worked up the courage to take a peek at the contents of the first letter he had received in the entirety of his pathetic life.

Neatly typed and signed in the same green ink that had been used to address the letter, on the stationary of 'Hogwarts High School,' read as follows:

Dear Mr. Potter,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts High School for the '96-'97 school year. Due to complications with the release of your parents' records and funds, your acceptance was delayed until the Ministry could sort all necessary arrangements out. We are very sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused you and hope that you will join us as soon as you possibly can.  
All arrangements have been made and we are merely awaiting your reply before the start of term on September 1st to confirm your enrollment. All necessary books and equipment will be purchased for you should you wish to enroll. Please fill out the form provided and return it in the envelope enclosed post marked no later than August 30th. We hope to see you at the start of the new term.  
Yours sincerely,

_Minerva McGonagall_

Minerva McGonagall,  
Deputy Headmistress

So, according to this letter, some high school called, of all things, _Hogwarts_, wanted him to attend their school this year. Yeah, _right_. It looked legit and all, but even if it was, Harry would never be able to attend the obviously prestigious school that had sent this letter to him. It's not like he had any money or anything. And why had they even contacted him in the first place? It had said something about his parents and some sort of records and funds and such, though Harry, for the life of him, had no idea what this 'Minerva McGonagall' was talking about.

According to his aunt and uncle, his father had been an alcoholic bum and his mother a crack whore. Of course, Harry had never truly believed this 'fact,' though he had no evidence to prove otherwise. Actually, he had very little of anything concerning his parents. They had died in a car crash when he was one, the same crash that had given him his 'freakish' lightning bolt scar, and he had been dumped at the Dursley's doorstep by Lord knows who and had been living here ever since. End of story. He really didn't know much about them at all, except that his mother Lily had been Aunt Petunia's sister, because the Dursley's tended to refrain from talking of 'the abominable freaks.'

He thought of filling out the form and returning it anyway, just for kicks, but decided against it. At least this way he could pretend that they actually _had _wanted him instead of receiving a letter back from the school along the lines of: 'Mr. H. Potter, we are sorry to inform you that we made a slight error when sending out our applications. The letter you received was meant to go to a Mr. _Hamil _Potter and...'

Yes, Harry was most definitely a pessimist. Of course, considering his life so far, he had every reason to be. Anyway, he could always change his mind about replying to the letter later. It had said that his reply had to be returned by August 30th, which was still about a week away. So Harry stashed the letter in his rickety old drawer that hardly opened anymore in his rickety old nightstand that Dudley had beat the shit out of one time when he was throwing one of his all too common tantrums.

He didn't have time to dwell on a silly letter that probably hadn't even been meant for him. He had homework to do, and lots of it. Not only did he have to do today's homework, but also the homework from Friday which had been ruined by his leaky pen. And he'd have to do it all on an empty stomach. Great, just great. God how he hated Mondays.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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Author's Note: Yep, another new fic! I know I have tons of other fics to work on, but this idea simply would not leave me alone and I just had to write it. Anyways, this probably won't be updated for quite a while, though I'm sure I'll come back and work on it some more eventually. I just love HP AU, slashy high-school fics, so I just had to write one of my own. I hope you liked it so far! 


	2. Work and a Wonderful Surprise

Summary: What if Hogwarts was no more than your typical high school and Harry didn't get his letter to attend it until his Junior year? An HP, AU, slashy high school fic. Come on, you know you love it!

A/N: I changed the date the term starts to September 2nd because I checked and in the year 1996, the first Monday in September was the 2nd.

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CHAPTER TWO: WORK AND A WONDERFUL SURPRISE

Sometimes Harry had to wonder why he even bothered trying. His relatives were never going to be satisfied with anything he did, or at least they'd never actually admit that they're satisfied with it. One day the tea is too hot, the next day it's too cold, and even if he did manage to get it to be just the right temperature, they'd just find some other bone to pick. Today, he hadn't made the sausage greasy enough. Like 'Duddykins' actually needs any more fat in his diet. But what could he do? It's not like he actually cares that Dudley's eating himself to death. In his humble opinion, Dudley can chow down to his piggish little heart's content. Hope he gives himself a heart attack before he hits forty.

But, whale-like cousin aside, sometimes it actually got to him that they never can manage to refrain from complaining about _everything _that concerns him. It tends to grate on one's nerves after a while. Especially after, let's see...15 years? No matter, he'd be out of there soon, though not soon enough. They seemed to have gotten worse lately, if that's even possible. It's almost as if they're trying to see if they can set some new standard for low, to beat their old scores.

It was almost enough to make him seriously think about sending a reply to that Hogwarts place. Just the mere possibility of getting out of here, no matter how slim it may be, is extremely appealing right now. And, after all, what harm could sending a letter back to the school be? He supposed that anything is worth a shot.

He was surprised that he had caved in and was going to write back less than a day after he had received it, though he supposed he really shouldn't be. Feeling silly despite the fact that he had just told himself that it really does not matter, Harry took out the Hogwarts envelope from his nightstand drawer, intending to reply to the letter. He didn't exactly know what to say, but he supposed it really makes no difference anyway. Grabbing a blue pen (one that doesn't leak) from his book bag, he hastily scrawled:

To Whomever it May Concern:

I had never heard of Hogwarts before receiving this letter and truthfully have no idea what you were talking about when you referred to getting my parents' paperwork and funds in order. I have no idea how you got my name or why you would want me to attend your school, but I really don't have enough money to pay for going to a private school even if I did want to attend. I'm sure you probably made a mistake in mailing this letter to me, but if you would write back with more information concerning the school and anything to do with my parents, it would be highly appreciated.

Sincerely,

Harry Potter

Harry carefully read over his brief letter a few more times, and although not completely satisfied with it, deemed it good enough to send. Folding the letter and sticking it into the envelope, which he then licked and sealed, Harry placed it aside to mail later that day on his way to work. But although he was finished with the letter for now and should be working on his homework, he couldn't seem to get the mysterious letter out of his mind. He kept trying to return his attention to his physics, but his thoughts just kept drifting back to the letters and Hogwarts.

What would it be like if he really did get the chance to go there? Would he get the chance to go there? Could it be possible? Were they really talking about _his _parents in the original letter? And why, oh why, had they even sent the letter to him in the first place?

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He got to work today a bit later than he usually did, a fact which the ever attentive Adruitha didn't fail to notice. "You're late," she remarked simply, though with no malice, merely playing the part of the pissed off boss berating a troublesome employee. She could never truly be mad at Harry; after all, he _is _her best employee.

"I'll make sure to stay over today," he replied, with an over exaggerated sigh, shaking his head as if in consternation. Truth was, he liked this job. A lot. It was certainly a whole bunch better than being stuck with the Dursleys at home--if he could even call it that.

"You do know that Tuesday is a really busy time for us," she joked before switching tactics. "What kept you?" she asked curiously, returning to her usual mildly curious, yet flippant at the same time tone. She raised a dark brown eyebrow in question when Harry didn't reply right away.

"I had to drop by the post office so I could mail a letter," he informed her, not looking her in the eye for fear that she would ask what the letter was about and he would have to tell her about the whole embarrassing thing. He would lie, but he was a really shitty liar and she would be able to see through any of his half-assed fibs any day.

"Alright," she accepted his excuse, though he could tell that she knew there was more to it than he was saying by the way she was scrutinizing him. Harry was glad that she let it slide, though. "You get to work the register today, 'cause Chez is home sick, a.k.a. his girlfriend is in town for the day. I really should just fire that boy's ass," she said, grinning. They shared a light laugh as Harry headed to the back room where he kept his stuff.

"So, how are those sodding pieces of shit you have for relatives treating you?" Adruitha joked, though with an underlying concern that Harry couldn't help but note. He paused in retrieving his 'work clothes' so that he could turn and look her in the eye.

"I'm fine, Adra," he attempted to convince her, though no doubt in vain. She stood there, arms crossed, tattoos and piercings giving her a tough look, added to by her don't-feed-me-that-bullshit glare. He shrugged. What else could he do?

She rolled her eyes in a frustrated manner before turning to head back out to the main part of the store, yelling a half-serious "Get to work!" over her shoulder as she left. Harry let out a slight snort as he headed to the bathroom to change into the baggy black pants and acid green shirt with a snake artistically drawn on the front that he had picked out for today. Too bad he couldn't wear these clothes at home and to school, but he was afraid that they would only get ruined by some shit-for-brains jock if he did.

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It was already Thursday, a fact which he could hardly believe, though was quite thankful for. He had passed up a ride home from Adruitha, seeing as how he wasn't at all eager to get back to Number 4 Privet Drive and the berating his uncle would surely give him as soon as he walked in the door. He took his time getting back, strolling at a leisurely pace as he passed through Fairfield Park where he had played--using the term lightly--as a child. He knew that delaying his return would only heighten his uncle's anger, but he couldn't find it in himself to care at the moment, deciding instead to revel in the relative peace he could experience while alone.

Despite his best efforts, he eventually did arrive at his relatives' house and gingerly opened the door, making sure that he was quiet enough as to not alert his 'family' to his presence. He shut the door softly and was about to make his way stealthily up the stairs and to 'his' bedroom when he nearly tripped on the mail that was still laying on the floor right in front of the door where the mailman had delivered it.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Harry hastily bent down and scooped up all of the papers littered across the floor. Sifting through the many bills, junk mail, and letters meant for his aunt and uncle, Harry was surprised, though pleasantly so, when he came upon a letter addressed to him. It was from Hogwarts. He was shocked at how quickly they had gotten back to him; it had only been two days.

Dropping the rest of the mail back to where he'd found it, he made his way swiftly up to his room. Closing the door and praying that he wouldn't be disturbed, Harry hastily dumped his book bag by his dilapidated desk before pouncing on his bed and ripping open the seal on the letter. Extracting the two pieces of parchment contained within the envelope, Harry eagerly read:

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to hear back from you, though troubled by your lack of knowledge concerning our school. It was always your parents' plan for you to attend Hogwarts, the school they themselves attended, and you were therefore signed up upon your birth 16 years ago. Money for you to attend school was set aside at that time, so there is no need for you to worry about that. Considering your letter, I take it that your relatives did not inform you of Hogwarts or of your parents' wishes for you to the school. Therefore, I would like to send someone to escort you to school and to answer any questions you may have. The best time for this would probably be the day before you leave, August 31st, if you are planning on riding the train up. Please write back detailing if that is okay with you and, if so, what time would be best for you.

Yours sincerely,

_Minerva McGonagall_

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

Stunned by the fact that he had not been rejected as he had expected, Harry absentmindedly grabbed a pen and piece of paper to write a reply. Jotting a quick response saying that he would be happy to have an escort and could meet him here, at Number 4 Privet Drive, between 11:00 am and noon. That done, he sealed it in the envelope that had been provided with the Hogwarts address on it. Perhaps he could sneak out and run down to the post office without his relatives noticing so that he could make sure the letter would be received in time.

Despite himself, Harry was excited. He had always wanted someone to come and steal him away from this dead end life. And now it seemed as if somebody was actually going to. He wondered what Hogwarts could possibly be like, but it couldn't be much worse than where he was now, so he figured that no matter what it would be a welcome change. He couldn't wait to get out of this hellhole.

Of course, he would miss Adruitha and his work at Selena's, but he was sure that everyone there would understand. He had told a couple of people there about his horrible, good-for-nothing relatives, so he was sure that they would all be happy that he was getting the chance to get out of here. Still, he would miss them, though not enough to keep him here.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! I'm glad you all seem to like it so far. There isn't going to be any magic in this fic (at least I'm not planning for there to be) because it is going to take place in the real world at a normal private school called Hogwarts. There will diffidently be some parallels to the books as I'm sure you've already seen, but it is probably going to veer off drastically in a couple of chapters. After all, this _is _going to be slash, though I'm not sure yet who I want to pair Harry with. I suppose it will be a surprise to all of us when the time comes! Anyway, don't expect all of the updates to come this quickly; I just got really excited about this fic and couldn't stop writing. Hope you liked this chapter alright. Chow! 


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